Amber Ashes
by o Mischief Managed
Summary: As fellow praetors, Reyna and Octavian's romance is nothing but a game of power, a way to keep each other in check. And Reyna plays along to keep the balance from tipping, because the Legion is far too important to her. But when a new player joins the game, the rules start to change, and Reyna realizes that her own desires have a player piece all their own. \Leyna, based on Snare.
1. Flowers with Sickness

**GUESS WHAT, GANG? THIS IS FINALLY A THING!**

**Yep, after like a year and a half of harping about this and mulling it over, it's FINALLY REAL. I wasn't sure about it for a while, but all the continued love for my one-shot Snare certainly helped light a fire under my tail and kick me into gear. Seriously, I really love you guys :D So everybody thank yourselves that this is finally here.**

**Okay, so a few important notes before we start:**

**First, this is a SEMI-AU. Like Snare, the initial idea came before the last two books in the series. So in this universe, NO HOUSE OF HADES AND NO BLOOD OF OLYMPUS. The most important factors (I guess... really the only important ones?) are (1) Jason's still praetor and (2) no Calypso. For, uh... obvious reasons ;)**

**Second, this is going to be a HIGH "T" RATING. I'm gonna be pushing the boundaries here, I can guarantee it. Yes, I will make sure not to push them too far. But I will caution you that things are gonna heat up.**

**Third, this is NOT a sequel to Snare. It's what I'm calling a "lengthy re-write". It's based on the same idea, but we're jumping back so I can tell you more of the story. That being said, you do NOT have to have read Snare to get what's going on here (though I of course recommend it!).**

**Umm... I think that's it? Yeah, I'm kind of a major windbag. Those of you who've read my stories already know that. Don't worry, I won't do this every chapter :D**

**Lastly, the song lyrics you'll find stuck at the chapter openings are from Mayday Parade's "Even Robots Need Blankets", which has been my song for Leo/Reyna basically since Monsters in the Closet first came out. Fits my view of them with perfection.**

**Whew! Enough of that! This chapter's gonna be the shortest and is mostly an introduction, but enjoy it anyway!**

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><p>It happens <em>every<em> time / If it counts, I lose my **courage** when I _need it_ the most

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><p>"Attention passengers. Flight 281A nonstop to Minneapolis will begin boarding in approximately fifteen minutes."<p>

_Fifteen minutes…_

Reyna sat back in her seat and folded her arms, tuning out the rest of the announcement. Fifteen minutes. Just fifteen more minutes, then she could get out of that airport and get back home to her camp. And it couldn't come soon enough.

It wasn't as though Reyna hated crowds. She lived in a secluded space with a pretty impressive number of people, after all. No, what she hated were _stupid _crowds, and airport traffic seemed to fit that description better than pretty much anywhere else. Just on the way through the building that morning, she'd almost been surprised by the sheer number of people who'd lost their luggage, missed their flight, couldn't navigate the clear and obvious directions to find their gate, tried to board at the wrong gate entirely, or misplaced their tickets or—in one alarming case—their child. It was maddening to listen to so much idiocy in one place, especially considering the fact that Reyna already had a low tolerance for idiocy in the first place. With so many added grievances, she couldn't fathom why anyone would prefer flying at all over a safe, secure journey by road or sea. If it were up to her, she wouldn't have set foot inside that airport at all.

But she endured the annoyance, because even though flying wasn't exactly her thing, her fellow praetor, who happened to be the son of the Roman sky god, felt very differently. And the last thing she wanted to do at the moment was start an argument with him. After all, those same fifteen minutes weren't only the last she'd have to spend in that airport, but they were also the last she had until she lost her best friend forever.

Okay, so maybe thinking like that was a _little_ overdramatic. It wasn't as though Jason was moving to the other side of the world or leaving the planet altogether. But still, New York City was a long way from San Francisco. Reyna had grown so used to his being beside her, her partner and her friend and the constant voice of careful reason whenever her frustration got the better of her. But now, all of that would change. They would still be friends, that much would remain, but she wasn't looking forward to Camp Jupiter without him. It would be like his disappearance almost six years ago all over again, and she would be forced to run the camp on her own.

Or worse—with someone much less competent by her side.

"Are you sure you're gonna be okay?"

Reyna blinked and turned her head to see Jason staring at her with a frown, looking for all the world like he was trying (and apparently succeeding) to read her mind. He sat on the edge of his seat as though ready to spring up at any second, a backpack over his shoulders and one hand resting near the handle of the duffel bag at his feet. One of his legs was bouncing impatiently to a vivace rhythm.

In spite of the painful twinge in her chest, Reyna smiled. It was nice to see him so excited.

"No," she answered in a light tone. "I changed my mind. The camp can't afford to lose a praetor like you. You'll just have to tell Piper that the legion is more important to you than she is."

Jason's expression relaxed and he laughed, looking down so his non-regulation sandy bangs fell across his eyes. Jerking his head to sweep them away, he said, "Yeah, I'm sure that'll go over well. She's already been whining at me for waiting this long. I told her I had to wait 'til June 'cause I couldn't leave you high and dry for more than a few weeks, but I can tell she's getting antsy."

"And let me guess—you wouldn't like her when she's antsy."

He laughed again. "Well, _I _would, but everybody else… Not so much. Leo called me the other day to complain about her, said she's been really clingy lately and he's hardly gotten any work done because of it. The two of them are best friends—when even _he's_ put off, you know it's bad."

Reyna chuckled, arching an eyebrow. "Guess you'd better shake a leg," she said wryly, reaching out and placing a hand firmly on his knee to stop it from jittering.

Jason grinned sheepishly. "Yeah, I know… I'm a little overexcited, too. It's just…" His blue eyes seemed to glass over a little. "This is it, Reyna. I mean this is _really_ it."

Reyna hid a smile. "So you're really gonna go through with it?"

"Definitely," he replied at once. His hand tightened on the strap of his backpack and Reyna guessed that he was thinking of the diamond engagement ring he had packed safely inside, the ring he planned to give to his girlfriend of five years. As far as she knew, the only ones whom he'd told of its existence were herself, Frank, and Hazel (both the latter of whom were somewhere in that airport at the moment, presumably getting something to eat), so said girlfriend should have had no idea it was coming. It was the biggest factor in his decision to move permanently to New York, and it was the reason Reyna would never hold that decision against him. He was in love. She knew it just as well as anyone else who'd seen him and Piper together did. And just because she'd yet to find love herself sure didn't mean she was about to begrudge it of her best friend.

"I want this," Jason went on, the corner of his mouth turning up in a small smile. "I just hope she does, too."

Reyna opened her mouth to assure him that Piper would be crazy not to, when a voice spoke over the intercom, "Attention passengers. Flight 281A nonstop to Minneapolis is now boarding at gate twelve. Please approach the booth and have your ticket ready. I repeat, flight 281A nonstop to Minneapolis…"

Jason stood up, seeming to tense with anticipation. As Reyna rose from her seat, he turned and met her eyes with a sad sort of smile. "Guess this is it."

She gave a short sigh. "I guess so." He took a step closer and wrapped his arms around her, folding her in a strong, comfortable embrace. It was a rare gesture—she wasn't normally the hugging type, as he well knew. But she let this time be an exception and hugged him back, knowing that it would be her last chance in quite a while.

As they drew apart and smiled, a voice behind Reyna called, "Wait, wait, wait for us! Don't go yet!"

Jason grinned over Reyna's shoulder and she turned to see Hazel hurrying toward them, weaving through the throng of travelers. She threw a glance back at her boyfriend, who was having a much more difficult time maneuvering the crowd due to his size.

"Don't worry," Jason assured Hazel as she broke into the waiting area. "I wasn't gonna leave without saying goodbye."

"Good," Hazel said seriously, before she set the fountain drink she'd been carrying on the seat Reyna had just vacated and threw her arms around Jason's shoulders (which was an impressive feat, given their difference in height). Jason chuckled through her volumes of curly, cinnamon hair.

Frank had caught up by the time they separated, a mentally-exhausted expression on his face. "I told you we should've left earlier," he said to Hazel, who gave him an apologetic smile in return. She took the two boxes of Chinese food from his arms so he could clasp hands with Jason.

"Let me know how the ballot goes," Jason said to him, pulling him into a one-armed hug. "If I was voting, my money'd be on you."

"I know mine will be," Hazel said.

Reyna added, "Mine, too," to which Frank gave an awkward grin and looked at the floor. There were still two weeks until the Feast of Fortuna, at which a ballot would be counted to elect a new praetor to replace Jason, but Reyna didn't need to mull over her decision. All the current centurions would be up for the vote, but in her educated opinion, Frank Zhang would suit the position better than all the others combined. She wasn't sure he had enough support, but she had to hope for the best. She hated to think what would happen if someone like Octavian secured the seat instead.

"Thanks," Frank muttered modestly. To Jason, he added, "You keep in touch, too, okay?"

"Yeah," Hazel agreed. "We want to hear about, you know… everything." She smiled brightly and Reyna figured she knew to which 'everything' the daughter of Pluto was referring.

"Right." Jason hefted his carry-on bag and turned to look at the line forming at the gate entrance. "Wish me luck."

Frank snorted. "Yeah, right. Saying 'good luck' to a demigod is like buying tap shoes for a fish—totally pointless."

All three of them laughed sort of bitterly. He had a point—demigods had notoriously bad luck wherever they went. After so long, they'd all come to expect no less.

"He's right," Reyna said wryly. "But good luck anyway."

Jason gave them a warm grin, waving as he backed toward his gate. "See you guys later!" he called, before he turned around and disappeared into the boarding crowd.

_Yeah,_ Reyna though with a sad smile as that familiar pang of loss pulled at her heart. _See you later._

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><p>"Neighbors bring food with death,<strong> flowers with sickness<strong>, and little things in between."_  
><em>—Harper Lee, _To Kill a Mockingbird_

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><p><strong>(Re:the above, the chapter titles are all taken from literary quotes, which I'll stick at the end of each entry. 'Flowers with Sickness' is the title of this chapter, even though it won't show up until I post the second one.)<strong>

**Okay, we're under way! Unfortunately, I don't have an update schedule yet, given that I just finished this chapter today and haven't started the next one. But I'm gonna try to make some headway so that I can get you guys just that, since regular updates are kind of what I'm known for. Wouldn't want to ruin my reputation ;)**

**So how 'bout a review to let me know you're on board? This chapter was, again, just an intro. All the rest (judging by my outline) will be much longer and much more eventful. I'm really excited to get going with this :D**

**Thanks, everybody! Later days!**

**-oMM**


	2. A Dealer in Words

**Hey, gang! Whew, it was rough getting this together over the past few days, but I really wanted to update this week before my trip tomorrow. I do like this chapter, though. It's a heck of a lot more eventful than the last one.**

**Thanks bunches for the great response so far! For a while I was worried that the Leyna following was kind of dying, but I'm glad to see there are still a few serious fans. I can't get enough of this ship, personally.**

**Enjoy!**

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><p>Then it comes <em>crawling<em> up after / Begs me to _ask her_ what I already **know**

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><p><em>This can't be happening…<em>

Reyna closed her eyes and took a slow breath, grinding her teeth in frustration. She'd counted the votes, and she'd recounted them, and she'd recounted them again and again. But each time yielded the exact same result. And why wouldn't they? Counting wasn't a skill. She couldn't have possibly messed up. But that certainly wasn't to say that, for perhaps the first time ever, she really wished she had.

The past two weeks running Camp Jupiter by herself had been relatively stress-free. Sure, there was a little more planning and organizing to do with the Feast of Fortuna coming up, but many of the Cohort centurions had stepped up to assist her wherever needed (possibly to gain her favor in the upcoming ballot, she had an inkling, but regardless she was thankful for the extra hands). Preparations had run smoothly and the feast itself had gone off without a hitch. It had been exactly the relaxing, fun sort of atmosphere the camp needed to lift their spirits after Jason's departure, and it was great to see everyone smiling and laughing together. Throughout the celebration, legionnaires had submitted their votes for the praetor promotion to the council, and now, many hours after the festivities had ended, Reyna was tasked with tallying the results. Sure, she could have had someone else do it. But she wanted to be the first to know the outcome. And besides, the night had grown dark and late by the time she finished (especially considering her insistence on a total of three recounts), and undoubtedly most of the rest of the legion had long since turned in for the night. It wouldn't be considerate of her to ask this dedication of anyone but herself.

Dropping the last ballot in the largest pile on her desk, Reyna sat back in her seat and rubbed her tired eyes. Part of her wondered if maybe she'd fallen asleep while counting and the outcome she was staring at was in fact nothing but a bad dream, a result of something strange she'd eaten at the feast maybe. That alternative was so momentarily enticing that she actually pinched herself on the hand as a test to see if she was truly awake, which of course only served to assure her that she was.

She opened her eyes and let them rest on the second largest pile of small, gold markers in front of her, the collection of coins all bearing the number nine. They'd used a number system in the ballot, with each number one through ten indicating one of the centurions of the Twelfth Legion Fulminata. The numbered coin each person submitted stood for their vote for the praetor promotion. Reyna had thought the process straightforward and simple, but now for some reason the pile of coins branded with the number nine—Frank's number—seemed to glare at her in resentment, like it was her fault the stack wasn't higher. She knew that wasn't true—she had no control over the vote, after all. It had been completely fair. But when she looked at the largest pile of coins on her desk, all of which bore the number one, it too seemed to have taken on a human sort of countenance and was staring at her smugly, as if it had known all along that this would be the outcome. Just looking at those numbers made her stomach turn in disappointment and dread, because it meant that the worst-case scenario was about to become a reality.

Octavian had won the vote. He was her new fellow praetor.

Though she wouldn't put it past him, Reyna didn't suspect any foul play on the augur's part. The total number of votes in the ballot was completely rational. He must have been able to garner enough supporters, fair and square. Not that that wholly surprised her, if she was honest. Octavian had a gift with words the like of which she'd never seen anywhere else. He always claimed, of course, to have the legion's best interests at heart. But Reyna, who really _did_ have the legion's best interests at heart, knew the difference between selfless and selfish crusades for power. She reminded herself that Octavian's appointment to praetor would, at most, place him on an equal plane with her—no longer under her authority, but neither would he be above it. Neither could do anything crucial without first consulting the other. That was how joint leadership worked, after all. For years, Reyna and Jason had mastered the sort of teamwork necessary to oversee Camp Jupiter, the city of New Rome included, and she knew the sort of push and pull that were necessary for a working, functional partnership. What worried her was how that would change with Octavian in the other high seat. Jason and Octavian were… in a word, different. Very different. It would definitely be rocky at first, Reyna knew, given her already-strained relationship with the augur. But she was more than capable of putting her personal feelings aside for the good of her camp. It was one of the traits she prided herself on, in fact.

With a yawn, Reyna jotted the final tally down on a sheet of paper and stood, stretching her stiff arms and pushing back her shoulders. She would make the official announcement in the morning, as she was expected to, but the time for worrying over it was done. What she needed now were just a few hours of peaceful rest, the last she could take while the Twelfth Legion was still fully safe in her hands.

-0-0-0-

_Knock, knock._

Two short raps on the wooden door of Reyna's office gave away the visitor immediately. She took a steadying breath and cracked her neck, stifling a yawn. A mere three hours of sleep or not, she would not allow herself to appear tired and weak. Not today of all days.

"Come in," she said casually, effortless regality in her voice from its many years of practiced solidity. She straightened her back as the door opened to reveal her expected guest, and incidentally her soon-to-be-partner. "I assume you can guess why I've called you here this morning," she went on simply.

Judging by Octavian's smile, he had no doubts on the subject of the meeting. Blue eyes glittering with shadowy sparks, he said, "Would I be correct in predicting that it has something to do with last night's ballot?"

"I tallied the lots myself," Reyna explained, "and let me be the first to wish you congratulations. You received the most votes, so the promotion is yours, if you'll have it."

Octavian's smirk widened a hint and he clasped his hands behind his back, his chin lifting as though he enjoyed looking down at Reyna. She fought the urge to stand in an effort to decrease their height margin. "Well, that's certainly a pleasant surprise," he responded in a tone that indicated a distinct lack of said surprise. "Thank you, Reyna. I would be honored to serve alongside you."

Reyna nodded, her face an expressionless mask. "Good. The official announcement and inauguration will be made at eleven this morning at the Senate Hall. Make sure you're on time, and try not to spread the word before then. I don't want any unnecessary distractions."

"Of course," Octavian agreed with a light inclination of his head. He placed a hand on the doorknob and Reyna waved her hand, signaling his dismissal, and to her slight surprise he left her office without another word.

_Well, that could've gone worse…_ she thought with a slight frown, studying the oaken door as though expecting it to open again any second. But she had to remind herself that this was only the beginning. After the inauguration, that was when the real challenge would begin.

-0-0-0-

Reyna studied Octavian out of the corner of her eye during the ceremony a few hours later, watching for any hint of some hidden agenda he might be concealing. But to her slight frustration, he was perfectly still and solid throughout the entire proceeding. Not even the smallest smirk she'd come to equate with his facial features turned up his lips.

In fact, she had to admit that he cut a rather impressive figure, which she wasn't entirely sure she'd thought possible before. He was twenty-three years old and just over seventy-four inches in height, barely a fraction of an inch taller than Jason. Thin and lanky but possessing perfect posture, his back straight and his shoulders stiff. His straw-colored hair was touched with beige lowlights and cut in an intentionally uneven fashion, so it brushed his forehead and his ears without getting in his way. He no longer dressed in oversized clothing like he used to, which had the odd effect of making him look somehow older and healthier. Today he wore a white Oxford shirt tucked neatly into black jeans, and had foregone a traditional armored breastplate in favor of polished golden bracers and greaves. A golden _gladius_ was belted on one side of his waist, a sheathed dagger to the other—both more for show than because they were needed. If Reyna was just meeting him, she would think him the picture of Roman authority, and when he knelt to allow her to fasten the violet praetor's cloak around his shoulders, she couldn't help thinking it actually suited him.

As he stood and took a bow to resounding applause, Reyna caught herself quickly. If even she was laid low by Octavian's charm, the legion wouldn't stand a chance.

It wasn't lawfully required for newly-appointed praetors to give any sort of speech, but it _was_ generally expected, and in Octavian's case perhaps even more so. So once he was officially sworn in, Reyna took a step back to allow him the floor, so to speak. And it was with an eagerness clear to only a few that he took it.

"I owe all of you my gratitude," he began with a smile, a thin and brittle sort of warmth in his voice. "It was your faith and support that put me here today, and I swear I will do everything in my power to make sure this decision is one we can all benefit from. I'm sure we can all agree that… a void was incited by the departure of Jason Grace, who was and will be historically hailed as one of the Twelfth Legion's most… inspiring leaders."

Reyna felt her eyebrows twitch in a frown before she quickly reigned in her expression. Something bothered her about his use of the word 'inspiring' over the many others he could have chosen.

"I fear no one will be able to adequately replace a son of the almighty Jupiter Optimus Maximus himself. But perhaps this change will present itself not as a transition back to the past, but a transition to the future. I may not be any son of Jupiter, but I can promise you this—Camp Jupiter is and will always be my home, just as it was Jason's. And I vow to heal this void of regret and unite us Romans as one, so that the loss of a beloved leader may be forever forgotten. I am confident, too, that Reyna shares this sentiment." At this, he turned and smiled at Reyna, and she politely inclined her head in response. "I know she and I will work cooperatively and tirelessly to better our camp, to ensure that we achieve the honor and the glory that we of the Roman Twelfth Legion Fulminata claim as birthright. Thank you all, again. I promise I will do this legion proud."

Octavian bowed his head and applause raged once more among the stands. Reyna brought her hands together in kind and did her best to keep a neutral countenance, though inside she was full of doubts. She didn't like Octavian's speech—not in the slightest. His talk of 'transition to the future' made her worry for what he had planned, and that wasn't even to mention how badly he was clearly trying to make Jason look for leaving. 'Camp Jupiter will always be my home, just as it was Jason's.' _Was_. And so the 'loss of a leader may be forever forgotten', well, to most of the people present it would seem as though he was simply encouraging them to move on and not to regret Jason's departure. But Reyna had a feeling it wasn't just the feeling of loss that he wanted them to forget.

And then he had to go and mention _her_, had to ensure everyone that there was no reason the two of them wouldn't get along just fine and agree on every detail. Reyna knew there was a trap in there somewhere, but she wasn't quite as skilled with wordplay as her new fellow praetor so for the time being she found no way to respond except to stand beside Octavian and give a forced smile of her own.

_Everything's a game with him,_ she told herself as people began filing out of the Senate House. _Just remember that, and I won't get tripped up so easily._

"Inspiring speech," she said nonchalantly as the two of them exited last of all. It was early afternoon now, and the sun had begun its return journey across the clear California sky above their heads. "I have to say I share your optimism. I think we'll make a good team."

_I HOPE we'll make a good team…_

"On that subject," Octavian began in a casual sort of tone, squinting up at the sun. "What do you say to dinner with me tonight, here in the city?"

"Dinner?" Reyna repeated, tripped up by the seemingly random offer. He looked down at her and nodded, a light smile on his face and an eyebrow ticking upward. "You mean like… a date?"

"Sure. You and I are going to be working closely together—hopefully for quite a while. How about we take some time to get to know each other?"

_This is some kind of trick,_ Reyna thought, looking thoughtful to cover her confliction. _Another move on the chess board. He's putting me in check. Well, two can play at that game._

So she smiled back and gave a carefree shrug of her shoulders. "Alright. Got anywhere in mind?"

-0-0-0-

To Reyna's slight surprise, her 'date' with Octavian was actually pleasant. It wasn't anything spectacular, but she didn't have a miserable time, either, which in her mind was a major plus. Mostly they discussed business; she filled him in on her day-to-day duties and the general layout of the principia, many areas of which were only accessible to praetors. He would move the next day into the west-end apartment, which until recently had belonged to Jason, and similarly the west office would be his for use as well. He listened to her explanations and asked appropriate questions, which Reyna found refreshing, as she'd grown used to his hidden disapproval of her and Jason's regime over the past few years. She didn't kid herself into thinking he'd changed completely, but maybe this joint praetorship wouldn't be quite as nightmarish as she'd first believed. No matter his true intentions, as long as he remained cordial and was willing to work with her, she could deal with whatever mutterings he did when she turned her back.

And so that was how it began. Octavian was vocal but polite and shared in Reyna's work equally, helping out where needed and leading tasks with an almost innate flair, like he'd been born for the job (which, in his eyes, undoubtedly, he was). And when they weren't busy, he'd ask Reyna to join him for various other activities—dinners (at which he'd always insist on paying), walks through the Garden of Bacchus, which he knew to be her favorite location in New Rome (she always had a difficult time filling the silence, but he of course did not), or sometimes training at the arena (these were her favorite, because she beat him every time). Throughout these so-called 'dates', Reyna realized that Octavian was slowly breaking through her physical barrier. He'd touch her arm or her shoulder or her knee, then he'd curl an arm around her or loosely hold her hand. His fingers would push a loose strand of hair behind her ear or his leg would brush against hers from across the table. She felt no such urge to return these gestures, but nor could she tell him to back off—part of her was acutely aware that he was testing her, trying to see how far she would go to keep up the appearance of their outward amity. Something about his eyes when he looked at her told her as much. She saw in them the same cold, calculative curiosity that was so indicative of his character, and it proved to her that every move he made was part of the game. He didn't have any real feelings for her, not anymore than she had for him. But still the game went on, and still she played.

And then, the night in the gardens when he kissed her and suggested their relationship become official, she was in check again. And every move but one would result in his victory.

-0-0-0-

No one was surprised by what appeared to be a romantic development between Reyna and Octavian. After all, it was natural for praetors to develop feelings for each other; she'd said so herself ages ago. Once, she'd even wondered if she and Jason might become something more than friends. But that was before Piper, and she saw now that it could never have happened. She didn't love Jason; never truly had. But nor, technically, did she love Octavian, even though by all appearances she was heading that way.

She supposed it didn't matter, though. As the days turned to weeks, she became certain that the whole thing was only a ploy, a way for Octavian to keep her loyal to him. That wasn't to say he had all the power, but Reyna knew that if she were to argue with him too fervently or decide to break off the charade, he would undoubtedly find a way to make it reflect negatively on her. He could even get her discharged, which was the last thing she would allow to happen. She would _not_ hand him the entire legion on a silver platter. To her, keeping up an exaggerated relationship with her fellow praetor was worth the security of her camp.

But she was tested further in the second week of July when Octavian finally decided to recede his meek, cooperative act and make the first of what Reyna assumed to be a long list of 'suggestions'. Though that wasn't to say this particular idea didn't take her a bit by surprise.

"You… want to what?" she asked him as they stood in her office one afternoon, trying to keep the disbelief from her voice.

"I think we should build an aerial fleet of warships," Octavian repeated simply, as though there was nothing strange about this request. "Not unlike the ships our friends at Camp Half-Blood have at their disposal."

_Camp Half-Blood…_ So that was what this was about. "Why?" she asked suspiciously.

"Because we have no real methods of air combat at the moment," he explained.

"Are you expecting an aerial assault?"

"No, no. It's more of a precaution, really. Think of the other camp—what if they were to need our help, and the fastest way we have to reach them is by land? We could miss out on valuable days. And then there's of course land preparation once we reach them—"

Reyna folded her arms with a frown. "They haven't had any problems they couldn't handle since the Giant War, and that was years ago."

"A lucky break, and you know it," Octavian pointed out. "Rarely do large groups of demigods go so long without trouble. Isn't the whole point of our alliance to be available to provide help in a crisis?"

Reyna chewed her lip and considered her fellow praetor's argument. It was a sound one, for sure, though she still wasn't completely convinced. She tried to think of what the downside would be to having an aerial fleet at their disposal, and unless Octavian was planning on leading a full-scale attack, which she doubted even he was stupid enough to try in the middle of an alliance, she couldn't find anything too suspicious.

Still, if Reyna remembered correctly, their Greek friends across the country only had two fully functional aerial warships. And yet Octavian wanted to build an entire fleet.

"How many ships were you thinking?" she inquired.

His eyes seemed to twinkle as he realized he was making headway. He turned and leaned back against Reyna's desk, looking thoughtful. "Well, a full-scale fleet would consist of about two hundred…"

"Two hundred?" Reyna repeated, aghast. "That's a hundred times as many as Camp Half-Blood has—"

"We also have quite a few more people than they do."

"Not _that_ many more. Besides, where the hell would we even _put_ two hundred warships?"

"I wasn't going to suggest an _entire_ traditional fleet," Octavian said in a placating tone, holding up his hands. "You're right, we just don't have the room. I was thinking more along the lines of fifty or so." When Reyna quietly stared at the floor, offering no immediate reply, Octavian placed his hands gently on her biceps and said, "It's for the alliance, Reyna, think about it. What are we going to do if they need us?"

Reyna gave a submissive sigh, looking up into her boyfriend's icy blue eyes. "A dozen. That's as high as I can justify."

Octavian's thin eyebrows drew together for just a second, but he nodded curtly and agreed, "A dozen. For now."

_For now?_ Reyna wondered warily, but she took the agreement she got. "We'll bring it up at the next Senate meeting and get the approval. Make sure you know what you're doing."

Octavian smiled in a way that only increased Reyna's worry. "Oh, I will."

-0-0-0-

Unsurprisingly, Octavian's proposal garnered an almost unanimous approval at the Senate meeting two days later. The only snag he didn't seem to anticipate was that their Vulcan descendants lacked the materials and the confidence to actually construct a small fleet of airships. At this, Reyna suggested that they enlist the help of their friends at Camp Half-Blood—after all, they'd built flying warships before and, as Octavian had so eloquently said, assistance in times of need was the whole point of an alliance. Octavian himself didn't seem incredibly happy with this proposal, but nor did he argue with it, so it as well received approval, and that same day Reyna composed a message to send to the centaur Chiron explaining their request. In another two days' time, she received a reply simply stating that they were on board with the project and would be sending a team of their best and brightest to help build the small fleet. Their arrival would be three days following.

So when Monday, July 20th rolled around, a Greek trireme with the words _Argo III _plated in bronze lettering on the stern touched down gently at the eastern edge of the Field of Mars, true to Chiron's words. And when Reyna and Octavian went out to greet its passengers, they found that a host of other legionnaires had already crowded in welcome.

"You must be Reyna," a strong, female voice said above the chatter, and Reyna twisted sideways to see a tall, muscular girl holding out a hand. Reyna took it, noting that the girl appeared to be maybe a year or two older than she was, with deep tan skin and frizzy brown hair tucked under an orange bandanna. The skin on her fingers was rough and calloused. "I'm Nyssa."

"Nice to meet you," Reyna answered as they shook hands. "This is Octavian, my fellow praetor. Are you in charge here?"

Nyssa shook her head, causing a few loose hairs to escape her bandanna. "No, I'm the number two. Head's our cabin leader—he's around here somewhere." She stood up straighter and peered over the heads of some nearby people, scanning the crowd. "Come on, this way."

Reyna noticed Octavian roll his eyes as Nyssa began to push between reuniting friends, indicating them both to follow her. They'd only made it a few steps before someone suddenly fell backward against Octavian, causing him to stumble with a growl of annoyance as he grabbed the person to steady them.

"Oh—sorry, Octavian," Hazel said at once, looking at the ground with a light flush as Octavian released her. "Wasn't paying attention." As Frank appeared behind her looking disgruntled, she glanced at Reyna with a worried sort of expression and said, "Hey, Reyna, have you been here a while? We were kind of hoping to find—Leo!" She changed direction mid-sentence as her eyes followed Nyssa and a bright smile lit her face. She pushed through the edge of the crowd to the base of the ship and promptly threw her arms around the person Nyssa was in conversation with. Despite the interruption, all the older woman did was shake her head with a wry smile and step backward.

As she and Octavian broke free of the crowd as well, Reyna put two and two together and recognized who exactly it was that was leading the Greek building team—and though she knew she shouldn't be surprised, there was still a small element of alarm.

She hadn't actually seen Leo Valdez in years, but as he and Jason were pretty close, his name had come up with relative frequency. From what she heard, it sounded as though he hadn't changed much from the skinny, hyperactive teenager she'd first met during the Giant War five years ago. But now she could see that that wasn't entirely correct. His black hair was longer and had straightened out a bit, so it curled at the ends around his dark, narrow eyes and in front of his pointed ears. He was still lithe and about two inches short of six feet, but she could clearly see muscle definition beneath his white T-shirt that hadn't been there when he was younger—undoubtedly a side-effect of his (constant, to hear Jason tell it) forge work. He wasn't bulky—in fact, standing next to Frank still seemed to dwarf him a bit. But when Reyna compared him to… say, Octavian, for example, well… That was a different story.

"I'm so glad you're here!" Hazel was saying as Leo returned her embrace and actually lifted her off the ground. "We didn't see you at first so we thought you might've skipped out…"

"And miss a chance to hang out with my favorite Roman couple _and_ build an entire aerial war fleet?" Leo responded with his trademark jester grin (at least _that_ didn't seem to have changed) as Hazel let go of him. "Do you guys know me at all?"

As Hazel chuckled, Frank stepped up beside her and said with a wry smile, "Unfortunately, we do."

"Nice to see you, too, Zhang." Undeterred, Leo hugged Frank as well without hesitation, and the son of Mars didn't hold out for more than half a second. "So, discover any new and exciting animal species lately?"

Frank lifted an eyebrow. "Yeah, actually, I was recently reacquainted with one I like to call the 'pygmy fire-monkey'."

"Oh, ha, ha," Leo said sarcastically, though he didn't look particularly offended.

Reyna cleared her throat loudly before they could launch into some big irrelevant discussion (not that she didn't sympathize with reunions between friends, but there would be plenty of time for that later). All eyes turned her way and Leo actually smiled at her—a genuine smile, unlike the chilly, insincere ones she'd grown accustomed to from Octavian. Oddly, it made her think of Jason. Shaking that aside, she nodded and said in her default, business-like tone, "Leo Valdez."

In a slight mockery of said business-like tone, Leo replied, "Reyna Ramírez-Arellano."

Reyna faltered a bit at his flawless pronunciation of her last name. That wasn't something she heard often; most people had trouble with it. She had to remind herself that he, like her, was of Latin-American descent.

Her hesitation, however brief, gave Octavian invitation to step forward and say stiffly, "So you're in charge of this… team."

The look in Leo's eyes sharpened just barely as he glanced at Octavian, seeming not to miss the way he'd said 'team' like it meant something different from its dictionary definition. "Yeah. I got the designs and core execution of two custom-built, military-grade triremes under my belt, so I think that makes me qualified." His tone was conversational, carefully devoid of any venom, but still Reyna could sense that Octavian took it as a sort of challenge.

"Thank you for answering our request," she cut in before her fellow praetor could respond. She didn't want any wedges driven between her camp and their Greek relatives before the project even began. "It was from your ships that Octavian got the idea for a fleet in the first place, so we have no doubt you'll be able to help us out."

She noticed Octavian's jaw tighten out of the corner of her eye and though, _Huh. Maybe I'm getting a hang of this verbal battle thing. Spending time with him has its advantages after all._

"That's what we're here for," Leo agreed, friendly expression back in place. He thumped Nyssa on the back and she gave a stiff smile in agreement.

"So how many people did you bring?" Reyna asked.

Glancing over her shoulder, Nyssa answered, "Fifteen, including the two of us. Which will be more than enough. Building and engineering are what children of Hephaestus do best."

"Our Vulcan descendants, too, will be more than willing to lend a few extra hands," Reyna said. "But for now, let's have someone show you where you'll be staying. We've cleared out a section of the barracks for the time being, and I'm sure you'd all like to get settled. Also, we'll be holding a welcome feast in the mess hall this evening, so don't worry about getting started on anything just yet."

"Awesome, I could always do with a good feast." Leo snapped his fingers and pointed at Nyssa. "Let's get everybody rounded up. Just unload the necessities, we'll leave the good stuff for now."

"Right," his half-sister agreed.

Looking back at Reyna, Leo said, "Guessing you've got the usual important praetor stuff to get back to, so have at it, we're set here. Catch up with you later." He grinned and wiggled his eyebrows, an unreadable look in his dark eyes as they very quickly glanced Reyna up and down. Tongue strangely dry all of a sudden, Reyna nodded and remained silent as Leo patted Hazel on the shoulder as a short goodbye and, with Nyssa, jogged off to gather the rest of their crew.

"Hm," Octavian muttered so only Reyna could hear as the people around them began to disperse. "I hope he plans to take this seriously. I'd hate to see it all _blow up_ in our faces."

Reyna frowned, picking up on his subtle reminder of the first time they'd met Leo Valdez, the summer of the Giant War when he'd been inadvertently responsible for destroying half of New Rome. She thought of pointing out that he'd been possessed by some spirit at the time and was in no control of his actions, and also that, as Octavian well knew, Leo had gone on to be instrumental in the battle against the Earth Mother herself at the end of the war. But she knew her fellow praetor well enough to loath starting an argument with him. And besides, she trusted their Greek allies. She had no expectations of any sort of disaster taking place.

"We'll just have to see how things go," she settled for saying in response. Simple and noncommittal. The safest way to speak with her sort-of boyfriend. "Come on. We've got work to do before the feast tonight."

Thankfully, he took her lead and let the topic drop there.

-0-0-0-

The feast was actually an enjoyable event, a good way for Reyna to relax after so many hurried preparations over the past few days. Their fifteen Greek guests brought a noticeable amount of energy to the atmosphere (not that feasts were particularly quiet affairs in the first place, but still there was a definite difference), which was a welcome addition. Reyna tried to make her rounds and meet everyone, hoping that she would remember all the names. Sometimes Octavian joined her, but for the most part he kept to his own group of friends, for which Reyna was admittedly a little relieved. It was easier to be amiable when she didn't have to count every word she let slip from her mouth.

"So how's our favorite war goddess doing these days?" Leo asked her when she bumped into him halfway through the evening.

Reyna quirked an eyebrow. "Are you talking about me or my mother?"

The corner of Leo's mouth turned up in a kind of meld of a smirk and a grin. "Why don't you tell me?"

Was he hitting on her? Well, it would appear _that_ part of him hadn't changed either. Somehow, though, with their being older than when they'd last met, Reyna found it didn't annoy her as much as amuse her anymore, and she couldn't help a small smile and a shake of her head.

"Seriously, though," he went on, taking a step closer to be heard above the din of chatter around them. "How you been? Jason would kill me if I didn't ask—he's been worried about you ever since tall, pale, and jerk-some won the praetor vote last month."

Reyna's smile faded to a slight frown. "He told you about that?"

"What, was it a secret?" Leo asked with a sly expression, eyebrows jumping.

"No, no. It's just…" Honestly, she was just surprised she'd come up in conversation at Camp Half-Blood at all. Not that she really should have been, she realized—she and Jason had been (_Still are_, she had to remind herself) best friends. "It doesn't matter," she said instead of addressing her thoughts. "I've been fine, really. Octavian is… more helpful than I expected him to be. Things are going pretty well here."

"I told him you'd be okay—girl like you must take care of herself pretty well. But you know him, he's a worrier." Leo rolled his eyes as Reyna paused her thinking to replay those sentences in her mind.

"A 'girl like me'?" she repeated dryly. What was he getting at?

"Yeah," he said with a shrug. His eyes swept over her again and for some reason she wished she was wearing armor. "Like I said. War goddess."

Reyna still didn't know if he was referring to her or to her immortal mother, Bellona, but before she could decide whether to ask or just let the comment go, a hand touched her waist and a voice near her ear said, "There you are," before a pair of chilly lips kissed her lightly on the cheek.

"Hi," she said in short greeting, turning to smile at Octavian as he retracted his arm in favor of sliding his hand into hers, lacing her fingers and sending an unpleasant chill up her left arm. When she looked back at Leo, she noticed that his sly grin had vanished and his forehead was creased in a frown, his eyes aimed at Reyna and Octavian's interlocked hands.

"You guys are…" he said vaguely. Then he blinked and took a casual step backward—away from Reyna—his characteristic smile returning. "—Not gonna regret calling us in on this," he finished his sentence, as though that was what he'd been planning to say all along. "Trust me, you got the best in the business here."

"We'll see about that," Octavian said simply, looking a little smug at the change in Leo's body language. "We Roman legionnaires are known for our building as well, as you may know, so we'll be holding you to high standards. Another thing you should know, I'm not easily impressed."

Leo's eyes darkened as his smile sharpened back into a smirk. "I've impressed gods. I think I can handle one fourth-generation legacy."

Octavian's chest swelled as he breathed in threateningly, but Reyna quickly grabbed his arm and said, "We should eat. We've been milling around for hours. Come on."

To her relief, her boyfriend turned to her and smiled. "Okay," he agreed. After one last chilly glance at Leo (Reyna forced herself specifically _not_ to look his way), he pulled her away through the crowd and toward the praetors' table.

For a while after, Reyna allowed herself to relax and go back to enjoying the evening, thinking that she'd succeeded in reigning Octavian in for the time being. But she realized she was wrong when, as they finished their dinner and started on dessert, he stood from their table and called for everyone's attention.

"I want to formally welcome our Greek relatives to Camp Jupiter," he said in his usual authoritative tone, a smile on his face and his palms turned upward. "I think I can speak for all of us when I say I hope your time here proves to be mutually beneficial and enjoyable." There was a half-hearted response of applause and affirmation as Octavian paused, and Reyna recognized the satisfaction on his face. "In honor of your arrival, it's been decided that a friendly war game event will take place tomorrow afternoon in the Field of Mars."

Reyna had to hurry to mask the surprise on her face. _Decided?_ Then why was this the first _she_ was hearing about it?

Over the sounds of general excitement, Octavian continued, "We hope that these games will help to foster a sense of camaraderie that, with luck, will flourish throughout the duration of your stay here. Through battle is one of the chief ways in which we as Roman legionnaires strengthen the bond of our loyalty and teamwork, and we would want no less than for our allies from across the country to experience the same."

Reyna swore Octavian's eyes had focused on Leo, who was standing with some friends around a table nearby, throughout most of his mini-speech. She hadn't the slightest idea what he was planning—or if he was planning anything at all—but she made a mental note to keep her attention focused on the two of them in the future.

When Octavian sat back down, Reyna leaned toward him and said in an undertone, "War games?"

He turned to her and his eyebrows angled. "You don't agree? I can retract the announcement—"

"No," she said quickly, reaching out to touch his arm as he leaned forward to rise from his chair. The legionnaires had seemed in favor of the idea, and the last thing she wanted to do was force anyone to choose sides between her and her fellow praetor. "No, it's fine. It'll be good for everyone. Only… Next time, I'd appreciate it if you ran it by me before sharing. We're partners here, remember."

Octavian smiled, his eyes remaining steady and cool. "Of course. Sorry for surprising you." He leaned forward and gave Reyna a brief kiss that was probably meant to be apologetic. She replied with a small smile in return, having decided long ago not to drive herself crazy pondering her boyfriend's ulterior motives.

When Octavian returned his attention to his plate, Reyna's eyes flitted sideways to the crowd of people standing nearby, locking with Leo's for an instant so short she almost missed it. He looked away when someone said something to him, prompting him to grin and give a response Reyna couldn't hear over the clamor. But her gaze stayed glued to the spot as he lifted a hand and a tiny tongue of orange flame danced around his fingers, making the people around him laugh. She became acutely aware then of Octavian's hand on her back, and the slivered shards of ice it seemed to draw across her skin, even through her cloak and T-shirt. For the first time, she found herself wondering what it would be like to be touched by someone warmer.

Quickly Reyna tore her eyes from the crowd and looked down, forcing the unsuspected flush from creeping any farther up her neck. She was losing herself. Spending so much time with Octavian was having stranger effects on her than she'd expected. But it was nothing she couldn't handle.

At least… she hoped not.

* * *

><p>"I am by nature <strong>a dealer in words<strong>, and words are the most powerful drug known to humanity."  
>—Rudyard Kipling<p>

* * *

><p><strong>Alright, so we're sort of rolling now, right? Next chapter will be said war games, which I haven't written yet so I don't know if it'll be up next week or not, but I'm gonna try. Hopefully I have time to make it good enough :D<strong>

**Review for me? Pretty please? Love you guys! Later days!**

**-oMM**


	3. The Rain Came

**Oh my god I finally defeated this chapter! Seriously it gave me so much grief over the past two months, some of the worst writer's block I've ever had. It could probably be better, but I'm happy with it considering what a pain in the ass it was to get finished. Whew.**

**Anyway, thanks to those of you who reviewed last chapter! Sorry about the stupid wait on this. I hate when it takes me that long :(**

**Enjoy!**

* * *

><p>Singin' oh, <em>love<em> / Get me out of the **cold  
><strong>If I _promise_ that I'd take you there **with me** / Would you _go?_

* * *

><p>The hot, summer sun pushed waves of warmth through Reyna's armor as she paced the southern rampart of her team's fortress the following afternoon, assessing their outfitting. Not that the heat bothered her overly much—it never had, what with her naturally deep skin tone and acclimation to higher temperatures. She felt comfortable, which was a nice change to the pins and needles she'd been treading on over the past few weeks—even more so when piled on the satisfaction with which she inspected what her team had been able to develop in a short amount of time.<p>

Not that she would admit it, but Reyna was glad Octavian had decided to hold a war game event (his neglect to consult her notwithstanding). It had been a while since the legion had partaken in the games, and regardless of whether or not he'd meant it, his idea of the ordeal helping to welcome the Greek building team was a sound one. At first, she'd been worried they might take it as a sort of challenge. But when they'd been teamed with the Fourth and Fifth Cohorts and set to defend in the games, they'd taken to the task of perfecting a makeshift fortress with respectable enthusiasm, which relieved Reyna. It would be good for them to have a little fun before cracking down.

She'd volunteered to join the defending team while Octavian took offense along with the First, Second, and Third Cohorts (officially, the centurions would be in charge of the teams; when the praetors participated it was more as an observational sort of role, though if she was honest Reyna suspected that Octavian would have his hand the decision making regardless). Her team had spent the morning building while she took care of her usual daytime work in an effort to free up her afternoon, and now, roughly twenty minutes before the games were set to begin, she was happy to see that they'd finished—and done an impressive job. The defending fortress wasn't gigantic, but it was surprisingly high and sturdy—a multi-story stone structure set heavily into a flat patch of earth surrounded by deep trenches too wide to jump across. The six guard towers were each, Reyna had discovered, outfitted with rotating crossbow ballistae and enough modified arrows to pepper half the Field of Mars. The ramparts connecting the towers were lined with what looked like water cannons each manned by two people, though Reyna couldn't see where they connected to the water lines running beneath the field. The steel portcullis below had been rigged with some kind of alarm system that blasted Broadway show tunes if the correct input code wasn't entered before the hinges were activated (which Reyna had discovered the hard way a little while ago). She hadn't fully inspected the interior yet, but was sure it as well had been spared no expense.

Glancing up at the sun to check the time, Reyna noticed Hazel waving her down from the far end of the southern rampart. She was standing with Frank and Leo at the corner and trying to get the praetor's attention.

As Reyna approached them, Hazel asked with a smile, "So what do you think? We've got a pretty good chance at this, don't we?"

"I have to admit I'm impressed," Reyna replied, turning to survey the building again with her eyes. "It should be a good match."

"Yeah, I'm thinking we can totally give Mr. Hero-of-the-People a run for his money," Leo added, leaning back against the rampart wall and smirking over his shoulder at the ground far below.

Glancing him over, Reyna frowned. "Where's your armor?" she asked, noting that he, unlike Hazel and Frank, who were both fully outfitted for the war games, wore no protection over his dark green T-shirt, jeans, and that tool belt that seemed to never leave his waist.

Unconcerned, the pyrokinetic shrugged, stuffing his hands in his pockets. "I'm not really an armor kind of guy."

Reyna arched an eyebrow. "You do realize you're asking the other team to kill you, right?"

He turned to look at her, his dark eyes sparking with an odd, fiery glow. "I'm asking them to try," he said confidently. Reyna rolled her eyes, not amused.

"Don't worry," Frank said wryly. "We'll make sure he doesn't get skewered. We need him for the building project, after all."

"Gee, Frank, never knew you cared," Leo responded with a sarcastic grin. Frank punched him amiably on the arm and he cringed, causing Hazel to giggle into her hand.

Suddenly, an eagle circling overhead cawed loudly, twice in quick succession, and Reyna felt her muscles tense. "Game on," she said aloud as people jumped into motion all around her. She stepped to the edge of the rampart and peered over the wall toward where Octavian's team had set up ranks a safe distance away. She glanced to her left, down the row of legionnaires manning the cannons. They all looked ready for action.

Across the field, the offense started to move. Small factions of them broke ranks to approach the trenches in a phalanx formation, tight and orderly. Reyna could see legionnaires near the rear flank carrying wooden bridge ladders over their heads, to be used to cross the trenches and gain entry to the fortress.

"As they cross, they'll be sitting ducks," Reyna said, eyebrows drawing together. "Even if they have a team hold position to provide cover fire. Should be a good time to launch an offensive."

"The best offense is a good defense," Leo pointed out. "Just hang tight a sec, boss-lady. You're gonna want to see this."

Reyna frowned as he stepped around her toward the nearest cannon. He leaned his head back and pointed three fingers upward toward the center front guard tower, and the person manning the ballista atop it returned the gesture before rotating her weapon and firing a speeding arrow directly upward into the sky, where it exploded in a tiny shower of purple sparks. Evidently this was some kind of signal, because as one the defenders on the ramparts aimed their cannons downward over the wall and fired, letting loose dozens of powerful streams of what Reyna realized was definitely not water.

"Is that… oil?" she asked, leaning over the wall to try and get a better look as gallons and gallons of dark, slimy liquid hurtled into the trench circling the fortress, forming a kind of moat.

"Sure is," Leo responded, his attention focused on the activity. He kept looking back and forth between the nearest cannon stream and the sky. Across the field, the attacking team continued their steady pace, though they had to be wondering what was going on.

A few at time, the cannons ceased their barrage. After a few seconds, another firework arrow was launched, possibly signaling that they'd all finished. Leo quickly exchanged a nod with Frank, who reached over his shoulder and whipped a crimson-fletched arrow from his quiver. He approached the eastern rampart wall as Leo leaned over the northern, and as Frank nocked and loosed Leo thrust out an arm and sent a thin wave of phantom fire toward the ground below. Reyna realized what was about to happen a second before the oil in the trench ignited, hurling broiling flames across its surface at an alarming speed. In barely a few seconds their fortress was surrounded by a moat made of fire.

"Ha-ha!" Leo laughed with a cocky sort of grin. "Try laying wooden ladders over that!"

The approaching attackers seemed to realize this same predicament, because they slowed to a halt a few yards from the burning moat. "Impressive," Reyna said truthfully. "But they'll figure out a contingency tactic. That, or they'll shore up defenses and wait for the fire to die down. Either way, it's a matter of time before they're at our gates."

"Small victories, Reyna." Leo shot her a sideways smirk and pointed a finger at her. "And don't worry. That's not our only parlor trick."

As the attackers regrouped, many of the defenders on the ramparts began breaking off and heading into the fortress toward whatever tasks their centurions had assigned them. Leo said something into the ear of the Greek girl watching below from the nearest oil cannon as Frank exchanged a significant nod with Hazel, who turned and disappeared around the southeast corner without a word. When Frank and Leo took off past Reyna toward the closest downward lift, she decided to follow them rather than keep lookout with those who remained.

Inside the fortress, the walls echoed with the tinny sounds of armored movement and steady voices rang indiscernible in the air. Reyna remembered her brief trip through the maze-like layout not long ago, and how she likely would've gotten lost inside had it not been for the Fourth Cohort legionnaire guiding her. She couldn't help but wonder if some of those voices were in fact requests for assistance or directions.

They passed small groups of defenders moving in twos or threes as Frank led the way through a series of short corridors, avoiding certain areas that Reyna assumed played host to traps. He almost missed one such spot at the top of a set of curved stairs leading down, and Leo had to grab his arm and say, "Wait, stop—skip the second step down, remember?"

"Oh, yeah," Frank mumbled sheepishly, following his friend's advice and stepping over the stair in question. Leo and Reyna leapt it after him and descended the rest at a quickened pace.

"Where are you going?" Reyna inquired curiously as they strode across the circular room at the foot of the stairs and continued through the leftmost of four optional doorways. She'd had no idea the inside of the place was quite this big.

"We're gonna intercept the attackers near the gate and lead them inside," Frank explained. "There's only the one entrance, so they'll have to use it once they get across the moat. Well, unless they try to blast through a wall—"

"—Which I hope they do," Leo added with a grin, "'cause it'll be hilarious."

Frank's mouth twitched up in an amused smile. "Yeah. But anyway, there're enough traps in these halls to take out any number of 'em. Should easily turn the odds in our favor."

Reyna frowned. "Now when you say 'take out'…"

"Don't worry." Frank shot her a half-smile over his shoulder. "Everything's non-lethal. We played fair."

"Sneaky," Leo supplied, "but fair."

Reyna nodded in satisfaction. It was true that accidents sometimes happened, but the rules of the games did dictate not to use lethal force. She was sure to enforce that guideline whenever possible, a fact of which all of the legion's centurions were well aware.

When they reached the entrance hall, a few more teams of legionnaires were already waiting at the other branching corridors. They could barely hear the sounds of shouting and clanging metal outside, signifying that a battle had begun.

"They're across the moat," Leo reported, touching a finger to his ear. He must have been wearing some kind of communication device. "Waited for it to die down a bit and attached shields and bits of armor to the bottom of their ladders. Not bad." He raised his eyebrows, looking mildly impressed and not the least bit worried. Reyna felt her brow furrow. She knew for a fact that confidence like his was dangerous. If he didn't have the skill to back it up, it could get him into real trouble.

Technically, though, that wasn't any of Reyna's business. Leo didn't belong to the Twelfth Legion, and therefore she wasn't responsible for him. Still, though, if any of their Greek guests got themselves killed in her camp, she had a feeling it might sour their relationship with Camp Half-Blood. And that _was_ her business, and her responsibility.

Not a minute after their arrival, something banged on the outside of the steel portcullis marking the entrance to the fortress. At once, everyone in the foyer ducked into one of the four branching hallways, clearing the empty room. The banging repeated once more, and with a smirk Leo muttered, "Showtime." With the next attack, the gate was forced upward and sunlight spilled into the entrance way. The shouts and clanging grew louder, and Reyna wondered for a second which team had cleared the path—that is, until hidden speakers somewhere in the high ceiling began blaring music, signaling that the correct input key hadn't been entered. Attackers filed into the room, shooting confused glances at the walls as "Master of the House" from _Les Misérables_ echoed from seemingly everywhere at once.

Immediately Frank drew his gladius and banged it noisily against the stone wall beside him. Similar sounds drifted from the other corridors, and in proper response the attackers wasted no time. They split into four groups and charged toward each hallway, weapons in hand.

"Green light," Leo said in an undertone as the three of them leapt to their feet. He dashed past Reyna and led the way back through the corridor in the direction from which they'd come, both of the others on his heels. Reyna glanced over her shoulder and around Frank she could just barely see a group of legionnaires following them. In the darkness she couldn't tell how many were present, but it was definitely more than three. They—and probably every other group of defenders who'd met the attack in the entrance hall—were outnumbered. She hoped Leo and Frank knew what they were doing, seeing as it wasn't her place to give orders here.

Apparently, though, she didn't need to worry. Halfway down the hall, Leo jammed a fist against the wall to his right without stopping and Reyna heard something mechanical move behind her. By the time she chanced a look, a loud, metallic clanging had filled the corridor as a few of their pursuers tripped over the slim section of the floor that had just risen a foot from the ground, causing an effective commotion. Reyna shook her head and chuckled as Frank shot her a grim smile.

By the time the legionnaires at the back had climbed over their fallen allies, Reyna, Leo, and Frank were turning the corner ahead and jogging into the open area at the foot of the curved staircase. They ground to a halt and Frank immediately whipped around and yanked a white-fletched arrow from his quiver. He took aim and loosed it with his trademark speed and precision, embedding it in a flat circle of stone on the wall directly above the doorway through which they'd just run. Below, the (somewhat smaller now) group of attackers chasing them was once again deterred when something thick and wiry began raining down on them from the ceiling of the corridor. Squinting through the dim light, Reyna realized it was Silly String.

As Leo laughed, Reyna turned to him and asked, "What exactly are we doing here?"

He shrugged nonchalantly in response. "Messin' with 'em. Come on, you gotta admit this is fun."

It _was_ rather amusing to watch Octavian's team flounder in the face of her team's traps, but Reyna wouldn't admit to that aloud. Instead, she inquired, "What about their banners? How are you planning to get them? You do want to win, don't you?"

Leo waved a hand, exchanging a grin with Frank. "That's being taken care of already, don't you worry."

"Our job is to spread them out and weaken their offense," Frank added. "If we frustrate them, they'll get sloppy, and the games will be over before they know it."

"I take it _our_ banners are hidden well enough," Reyna said.

"Of course," Leo said confidently. "I'm telling you, don't worry. We've got this thing in the bag."

By that time, a few attackers had fought their way out of the corridor and were breaking into the circular room. They looked more than a little ridiculous, covered in piles of sticky, rainbow-colored string. Beneath the decorative topping, though, Reyna could see looks of anger on their faces, hands tightly gripping swords and spears.

The same instant, she heard movement behind them and twisted around, eyes scouring the shadows. A second later, another group of five or six attackers appeared from the doorway closest to the foot of the staircase, quickly spilling out into the room.

"Uh-oh," Leo muttered in a low voice. "That wasn't supposed to happen. Guess we're fighting."

Reyna calmly drew her sword, dagger still clutched in her left hand. Behind her, Frank nocked another arrow, this one with yellow fletching, and fired it into the Silly-String-covered legionnaires. One girl in the front dodged, but the projectile slammed against the breastplate of the boy behind her, sending out ochre arcs of electricity as it did so. The boy grunted as he was thrown backward, bowling over two allies. Another attacker charged forward and aimed a backswing of his sword at Frank, trying to hit him with the hilt, but he ducked it just as Reyna dashed up beside him. She slammed the blade of her sword against the attacker's and twisted, forcing his arms sideways. She felt another person dodge around her left side and turned, expecting an attack at her back, but instead the girl made a jab at Leo as he sidestepped the spear of a guy from the other side of the room (Reyna had a difficult time identifying them beneath their armor and, in some cases, layers of Silly String). He saw the girl's movement just in time and leapt backward, stretching out an arm and shooting a thin beam of fire as a counterattack. It struck the guard above the hilt of her sword and she shrieked, dropping the blade and wildly waving the hand that had been burned by the heated metal.

With a quick glance at Frank to see that he'd safely drawn his sword and was fending off a swing, Reyna turned back to the larger group of newcomers. None of them seemed to be too keen on engaging her directly, which didn't surprise her. That made things easier for her, but at the same time she felt a little bad taking advantage of the members of her camp. Oh, well. It was only a game, after all. And like everyone else, she was playing to win.

Reyna dodged around the burned girl and intercepted another sword which appeared to have been aimed at Leo. She thrust forward and drove the attacker's arm above their head, whirling around and spinning her dagger in her hand so she could slam the hilt against the guy's unarmored side. He growled and doubled over, trying to kick Reyna's legs out from under her in defense. She evaded the weak attempt and rammed her shoulder hard into his breastplate, effectively causing him to lose his balance. He toppled over, almost colliding with someone else on the way down.

A blaze of heat whisked by to Reyna's right and she turned to see another person stumble backward, the blade of his sword actually melting to molten gold and pooling on the floor. Someone else made the painful mistake of stepping in the melted metal, which instantly burned through his boot and likely a layer or two of skin. He threw himself backward with a howl, forgetting all about the battle at hand. Surprised, Reyna swiftly placed some additional distance between herself and the mess, watching as Leo caught the blade of a spear in the curved end of a silver monkey wrench she assumed had come from his magic tool belt. He had a frustrated look on his face as he proceeded to melt this blade as well just in time to duck a vicious jab aimed at his neck. Reyna had a feeling she understood why he was irritated, and a quick glance at Frank, who was doing noticeably more intercepting and attacking than defending, confirmed it. For whatever reason, the majority of the attackers seemed to be ignoring Reyna and Frank, instead aiming their blades at the only Greek in the room.

_Hardly sportsmanlike,_ Reyna thought with a scowl. She spared a brief second to wonder if this was a result of personal prejudice or if Octavian had put them up to it, before she charged back in with renewed vigor and threw herself between Leo and the girl sneaking up on him from behind. Reyna made a jab with her sword before the girl had a chance to initiate her own attack—even before she had a chance to dodge or block. The praetor's golden blade slammed the younger girl in the armored stomach and hurled her backward onto the ground.

"Let's get out of here!" Frank yelled suddenly as he cleared a path to the foot of the staircase. Leo and Reyna followed him without a word, taking the steps two at a time as the attackers bounded after them.

"Remember before," Leo hissed to Reyna, and just in time she recalled his earlier warning about the second step from the top. She was sure to clear it, following Frank up onto the second floor landing. Behind her, the attacking team wasn't so lucky. One of them triggered the trick step, causing the entire staircase to flatten into a slick, stone slide. As one, all of the pursuers cried out as they tumbled end over end back to the floor below in a heap of armored limbs. It was a miracle no one lost their head to a stray blade.

"That should buy us some time," Leo said as he stored his wrench back in his belt and Frank sheathed his gladius. "Come on." He ducked a speeding arrow aimed his way from down below, and as they hurried out of the line of fire Reyna thought of saying something about Octavian's team—apologizing for their behavior, maybe—but now that the fight was over, Leo actually didn't look too concerned anymore. And moreover, neither did he look hurt in any way. He'd held his own against the unfair onslaught considerably well. So Reyna followed his lead and stayed quiet about it for now.

Frank led the way down a corridor and around a corner. "We should get back downstairs," he suggested. "See what's going on. Maybe we can thin them out a little more for Hazel."

"There's a lift back this way," Leo informed them, switching direction at a fork and heading down a short passage that led to a lift shaft. He input a code on the number pad beside the opening and somewhere above them, the lift began to move. In a few short minutes, they were back on the ground floor.

They came across a few more groups of attackers in the maze of corridors, sometimes fighting them off and sometimes disabling them with traps. By the time they reached the entrance hall, activity there had spiked. The room was now full of attackers and defenders duking it out. The show tunes were still emanating from the ceiling, though the lyrics of _Jekyll and Hyde_'s "Façade" were difficult to make out over the din below.

"Looks like they did try blasting in," Leo pointed out with an amused grin, nodding toward a few attackers nearby whose armor was covered in some kind of slimy, green goo. Reyna didn't ask what that was about.

"So now what?" Frank wondered, grip tightening on his bow as he stood on tiptoe to see over the heads of the people closest to them.

"Hazel, where are you?" Leo said loudly, and Reyna looked around them before realizing he was speaking into the device in his ear. "What, really? Yeah, we can do that. Nah, come on, 'distraction' is my middle name." With a half-grin, he turned to address Frank and Reyna, saying, "Almost there. We just gotta keep 'em occupied here for a few minutes."

"Right." Frank nodded dutifully, wasting no time. He snatched another electric arrow from his quiver and took aim as he charged into the fray, using his size advantage to shoulder people aside.

Leo laughed and started after the centurion, hesitating when Reyna ordered him, "Hey, be careful!" He turned and shot her a skeptical look and she backtracked, "I mean—they were all over you earlier, you had to notice it."

Leo shrugged, looking unconcerned. "Just a basic hazard of being so awesome. People get jealous. Thanks, though—nice to know you care." He gave her a sarcastic smirk and she glared at him, but before the conversation could continue he was forced to avert his attention to the spear aimed at his back. She spared a second to make sure he dodged it properly before sheathing her dagger and forging ahead with her gladius.

As it turned out, they didn't even need a few minutes. It was barely ninety seconds before the sounds of loud cheering echoed in through the open gateway, and when Reyna forced her way outside she saw Hazel atop her flying horse, Arion, cantering above the crowd and waving the attacking team's banners over her head. Reyna didn't know what Hazel's part of the strategy had entailed, but evidently it had worked. She couldn't help a brief smile. Her team had just won, after all.

Reclaiming her neutral expression, she headed back inside and shouted, "The attackers' banners have been captured! The games are over!" All around her people immediately lowered their weapons. Some whooped and cheered, others stamped their feet and looked dejected. Nearby, she saw Leo and Frank high-five, grins on their faces. Slowly, they all began to trickle out of the fortress and back into the sunlight, celebrating with their neighbors or complaining about the outcome. Reyna stood aside to make sure no one tried to resume the battle, just in case any sore feelings got the better of someone—that is, until somebody was pushed by the crowd and stumbled into her. She was almost knocked off her feet as she grabbed the person to steady him, recognizing him as a Second Cohort legionnaire named Zane.

"Sorry, Reyna," he muttered, looking apologetic. Reyna opened her mouth to assure him that there was no harm done when, by some unfortunate miracle, it happened again. Someone's elbow hit him in the back and he tripped over his own feet, bowling into Reyna and this time dragging them both to the floor.

"Sorry," Zane insisted again with a sheepish smile and he scrambled backward. He reached toward Reyna to help her up, but she quickly brushed him away.

"No, it's fine," she snapped, a little irritated. "I'm fine. Just get going." He opened his mouth to argue and tried to help again, but Reyna's attention was torn away when somebody in the crowd suddenly yelled loudly in pain. She sprang to her feet and pushed Zane aside, a glare on her face as her eyes scoured the room, noting that with whatever attack had just happened—accidental or otherwise—the commotion seemed to have increased.

"Move!" somebody shouted, and Reyna looked to see Frank shoving people aside with an angry look on his face. As he disappeared from view, Reyna turned to send Zane to find a medic, but to her slight surprise he'd gone as well. Clucking her tongue, she squared her shoulders and put on her hardest, most authoritative expression before marching forward. People seemed to part around her like she was magnetically charged and in no time she'd maneuvered the group enough to see exactly what her gut feeling had told her she'd see—Frank and Leo were crouched near the middle of the room, the latter clutching blood-covered hands over a slice in his left side.

Reyna swore under her breath as she quickly approached them. "What happened?" she demanded, glancing around and willing anyone to provide a satisfactory answer. Unsurprisingly, though, the crowd had fallen silent.

"I don't know," Leo grunted, his face screwed up in a twitching grimace. "Somebody… shoved me from behind. Accident, I think. I turned around—" His voice broke into a strangled yell as Frank tried to pull his hands away to get to the wound. Sighing shortly in worried frustration, Frank looked up at Reyna and held up his hands, telling her he didn't know anything more. Biting the inside of her cheek, Reyna coaxed Frank aside and knelt next to Leo herself for a closer look.

"Come on," she said firmly. Leo spared her a brief glance before squeezing his eyes shut again, breathing scratchily through gritted teeth. He relented, though, and removed shaking hands from his side. Carefully, Reyna lifted the hem of his bloodstained shirt to reveal a jagged gash across his waist that stretched around his back, thin but considerably deep. If Reyna had to guess by the angle and depth of the cut, she would conclude that someone had attempted to stab him in the back and he'd moved just barely in time to deflect the blade—assuming, of course, that it had been on purpose.

Leo winced when her fingers brushed his ribs as she leaned closer, and though she experienced no pain herself Reyna felt an odd sort of tremor sweep through her own body. His skin was hot—not feverish, but warm like he'd been lying in the sunlight. _Just like I thought it'd be_, she couldn't help but wonder, though she immediately backtracked afterward. This wasn't the time for such misplaced imaginings. She'd examined countless battle wounds before and felt no awkward tension in doing so. There was no reason for that to change now.

Retracting her hands, Reyna stood up, feeling her blood start to stir. She was furious. The games were over. Everyone in the room had been aware, she'd made sure of it herself. A big part of her doubted this attack had been unintentional or provoked, given what she'd seen earlier that day. But trying to kill someone during the games was one thing. Doing it after they'd ended was another thing entirely.

"What happened here?" an authoritative voice barked from behind Reyna, and she felt her jaw tighten as she turned to see Octavian emerging from the crowd of onlookers. He had a slightly miffed expression on his face—probably a result of his loss in the war games he'd been so eager to hold. Was it Reyna's imagination, though, or did his blue eyes seem to brighten a shade when they rested on Leo?

"An accident," Reyna replied shortly as Hazel pushed her way in beside Octavian. With a gasp, the daughter of Pluto rushed forward and dropped to one knee beside her Greek friend, setting a hand on his shoulder as he gave her a weak smile that was clearly meant to be reassuring.

Reyna turned away from Octavian and back to Frank, not wanting to dwell on the subject of her personal frustration at the moment. "Let's get him to the hospital. I'll look into this later." She shot a brief glare around the room at the last of those words, a silent intimidation technique. It was possible that there was nothing to look into at all, but on the chance that foul play had been involved, she needed whoever was responsible to know that she wasn't about to look the other way.

Leo staggered and almost lost his balance when Frank and Hazel pulled him to his feet. Judging by the hazy look in his eyes, he wouldn't make it to New Rome without help. Reyna sighed shortly when she realized that neither Frank nor Hazel was suited to the job—one was much too tall and the other much too short. Without a word, Reyna shouldered Frank aside and grabbed Leo's left arm, swinging it around her shoulders. He groaned at the strain and she felt him lean against her as his muscles seemed to tense in pained protest. The heat from his skin seemed to warm Reyna's own body, making blood rise in her chest and arms and boil beneath her flesh. Ignoring the discomfort, she wrapped her right arm around Leo's back, careful not to get too close to the tear in his shirt, and with what felt like a permanent scowl on her face she guided him as quickly as he could manage out of the fortress, Frank and Hazel on their heels.

"Maybe I should've worn that armor after all," Leo muttered to her with a breathy chuckle as the other legionnaires shuffled aside to make way.

Reyna grunted noncommittally in response to the wry joke. She met Octavian's icy eyes as they passed him and thought to herself, _You were right before, Leo—you shouldn't have needed it. But I'm going to find out exactly why you did._

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><p>"And in that moment, like a swift intake of breath, <strong>the rain came<strong>."  
>—Truman Capote, <em>Other Voices, Other Rooms<em>

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><p><strong>Yikes. So knock on wood, but I'm fairly certain the next few chapters should <em>not<em> take as long as this one did. I dunno why, I just hit this mega block early on in this one and it took me until yesterday to get over it. Yeah, two months of failed brainstorming and I end up writing almost this entire chapter in one day. God, that's lame.**

**So leave a review on your way out, pretty please, and I hope to see you again soon! Later days!**

**-oMM**


	4. From Hell's Heart

**Hey, look at me updating on schedule! This chapter isn't as eventful as the past two, but it's still necessary. Stick with me, we'll get to the good stuff soon ;)**

**Thanks, everybody who reviewed last week! Enjoy!**

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><p>I've found, in <em>one<em> step / I'll get **closer** to _heaven_ than you'll ever know  
>You may <em>never<em> **know**

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><p>Reyna spent the better part of that evening casually discussing the mishap at the war games with anyone she could remember seeing inside the fortress. She was careful not to be antagonistic, especially when talking to certain members of the First and Second Cohorts whom she knew to be particularly close to Octavian. It was a routine inquiry on her part, simple measures to ensure that no rules had been broken. Still, even at her most calm, she had a reputation for strictness, which she relied on to draw out the truth. But from what she gathered, no one had seen anything that resembled foul play. As most accounts relayed, there had been a lot of activity at the time. Nobody had been paying close enough attention, which Reyna didn't find wholly surprising. What did bother her, though, was that the offending blade had to have belonged to someone. If it truly had been an accident, why wouldn't the person responsible have come forward? There would have been no disciplinary action for an unintentional slip, everyone knew that. No, to Reyna, it was clear that the attack—which just happened to injure the Greek demigod in charge of the new building project—had been carried out with specific intent. Unfortunately, it was also clear that she wouldn't be apprehending the culprit or culprits anytime soon.<p>

The two people with whom she particularly wanted to discuss the event were also coincidentally the two people she couldn't get close to for many hours after the games. Octavian was either extremely diligent with his work during the day, or was carefully avoiding her while devising a clever cover story (it struck Reyna that thinking as such was a touch accusatory and paranoid, but where Octavian was concerned it was hard for her to be too careful). Either way, she was wholly unable to corner him. And as for Leo, no one was allowed in to see him at all until the medics gave the go-ahead.

It was long after sunset by the time Reyna received word that Leo was awake and visitors were being permitted, so with Octavian still absent she decided to stop by New Rome's hospital and assess the situation. With luck, Leo would be a bit more in control of his faculties than when they'd last spoken and she could glean some additional information from him.

When she arrived, she was unsurprised to find that he wasn't alone. Hazel, Frank, and a handful of his Greek half-siblings were in the room, talking and laughing about things that didn't seem to have any relation to the accident. Reyna was a bit reluctant to bring the atmosphere down, so she waited patiently outside until most of them had trickled out. The last to leave were Hazel and Frank, who stopped to greet Reyna on their way by.

"How is he?" she asked them flatly, not allowing any emotion to show on her face. Her practiced manner of communication.

Hazel responded with a small smile. "He's doing great, actually. It's only been a few hours and you can hardly tell anything happened at all. I guess he's always been a quick healer." She looked up at Frank and he shrugged loosely in agreement. Reyna nodded in satisfaction, though she noticed the crinkles around Hazel's brow and weariness in her golden eyes that betrayed the hours she'd spent worrying.

"That's good," Reyna replied. "I figured I should stop by to check in."

Hazel nodded, and Reyna got the distinct feeling the younger woman wanted very much to ask if Reyna had discovered anything about the incident. But this wasn't the time or place to discuss it, with so many people around, and all Hazel said was, "Okay. We'll leave you to it."

Reyna had barely stepped through the doorway before receiving the greeting, "I knew you'd show up sooner or later."

She quirked an eyebrow as she snapped the door closed. "Did you?"

Leo gave a wry half-grin. He was sitting up in one of the room's two hospital beds (the other was thankfully unoccupied) and, as Hazel said, was looking well, all things considered. His eyelids were heavy and dark circles colored the skin above his cheekbones, but he wasn't quite as pale and weakened as he'd been when the medics had shooed her away that afternoon.

"I saw the look on your face earlier," he explained. His voice was rough and scratchy but contained a generous percentage of its usual strength. "It was obvious you had a few things to say."

Reyna folded her arms and leaned back against an empty supply table nearby. "I just want to know what happened."

Leo shrugged a shoulder. "Like I said, I didn't really see anything. Everybody was moving, you know? I got bumped from behind and felt a hand grab my shoulder. I thought somebody'd tripped so I turned around to help, and instead I got shanked in the back. Then everybody kind of freaked out, so I lost whoever was there—not that I was particularly looking anymore. I was a little preoccupied."

Reyna breathed out shortly through her nose, frustrated. So the attacker had been careful. That didn't make things any easier. "I'm sorry this happened," she said seriously. "It wasn't right. If I knew who was responsible, I could do something about it. But for now…"

"You don't have to do anything," Leo argued, shaking his head. "It was just an accident, right? They happen, no big deal."

"An accident," Reyna repeated, a finger tapping agitatedly against her arm. "Well, either way, you're here as our guest. Landing you in the hospital on your second day is hardly the welcome I had in mind."

Leo cracked a grin. "Hey, no one can ever say you guys don't know how to throw a wild party." The corner of Reyna's mouth ticked up in amused relief at his acceptance of the whole ordeal, and he chuckled lightly as she shook her head. Doing so must have strained his still-healing muscles, though, because his laugh became a sharp hiss and he jerked forward, a hand reaching reflexively to his left side. Reyna felt her frown deepen momentarily, her body twitching a jolt as she stopped herself from going closer to his bed. He noticed her expression and movement, however brief they'd been, and a second later his smile returned as he shook his head and assured her, "Don't worry."

"…Worry?" she repeated, blinking in momentary uncertainty. Was she really that concerned? "I'm—"

"This won't keep me down for more than a day," he explained. "We won't have to delay the building project or anything. I promise, you won't be stuck with us any longer than necessary."

"Oh. The building project, right." Reyna quickly straightened her shoulders. Of course that's what he meant. And of course that's what _she_ meant as well. It must have been in the back of her mind somewhere. "That's good to hear. We'll make sure everything is ready tomorrow. Though, I don't want you to overdo it. If you need time to recover, take it. We have plenty of people to pick up the slack."

"Nah, I'm not missing a second of this," Leo told her with a grin, leaning sideways against a stack of pillows. "Warships are my specialty."

Reyna allowed a wry smile in return as she stepped away from the table against which she was perched. "I'll let you get some rest. Thank you for talking to me about the incident. I'm sure it's not high on your topics of interest list."

Leo chuckled again, and this time no show of pain was forthcoming. "You'd be surprised," he said ruefully. "See you around."

With a slow sigh, Reyna quietly left the hospital room and was admittedly glad to find no activity in the hall outside—no activity, that is, save for the person leaning stiffly against the wall beside Leo's door, head bowed and face darkened by an uneasy scowl.

"Sticking around?" Reyna asked him.

Frank looked up at her. "Just for now, 'til he's back on his feet. I don't want to leave him alone like this."

Reyna felt something twist uncomfortably in her gut. So she wasn't the only one suspecting foul play after all.

"What do you make of this?" she asked, lowering her voice and taking a step closer to the centurion.

Frank shook his head, folding his arms tightly across his broad chest. "I didn't see what happened," he reported expectedly, "but honestly, I wouldn't be surprised if it was intentional. There are still a few of us who dislike the Greeks—you know, who can't let go of old prejudices. Maybe the idea of Leo being in charge was… unappealing."

Reyna hummed a noncommittal response, her eyes going to the closed door beside her. "Someone should keep an eye on him. We don't want something like this happening again."

Surprisingly, Frank followed Reyna's gaze and shook his head. "No, I don't think we should draw attention to this whole thing. It might be better if we just let everyone think it was an accident. The last thing we need is some kind of feud on our hands, a fight where people would be forced to take sides."

"Right…" Reyna muttered, mulling it over. If something like that did happen, there was little debate as to which 'sides' she and her fellow praetor would end up on. And going against Octavian had never been an idea she'd particularly relished.

"Besides," Frank went on, "Leo can take care of himself. Somebody caught him off guard this afternoon, with the games being over and all. He may not look it, but I bet you he's a little more cautious now. Annoying or not, he's no idiot. Far from it, actually—he's a freakin' genius." Frank's scowl seemed to deepen as he added wryly, "I hate that about him."

Reyna chuckled at what may or may not have been a joke. "Just keep your ears open," she told the son of Mars, patting a hand against his arm. When he nodded dutifully and resumed his casual stance against the wall, Reyna turned and left him alone.

Upon returning to the principia, she decided to check Octavian's living quarters to see if he'd returned yet, given that it was now past midnight—and sure enough, she saw lights on behind the apartment door. Gathering herself mentally for some one-on-one time with her boyfriend, she knocked curtly on the door in her usual fashion. It was answered barely a few seconds later.

"Reyna," Octavian greeted her with a smile. He was dressed casually in dark jeans and a black T-shirt, having shed his cloak and armor for the night. "I was hoping I'd get a chance to see you before bed. Come on in."

Reyna returned his smile and followed him inside, removing her own cloak (she'd left her armor in her room before her hospital visit) and dropping onto the sofa in the sitting room. "Interesting war games today," she said conversationally.

"Interesting is right," he agreed as he sat down on the other end of the sofa, twisted sideways to face her. "Though maybe 'awful' would describe them better. I'd just started to regret the fact that my team had lost when I learned someone had been injured." He shook his head and clicked his tongue regretfully. "And _after_ the ceasefire, no less. I assume you looked into it?"

Reyna wanted to glare at him. But she held herself back, instead leaning her head back to glance at the ceiling. "I did. As far as I can tell, it appears to have been an accident. Though you have to admit it's suspicious."

"You think someone did this on purpose?" Octavian asked, eyebrows drawing together.

"Whether it was done on purpose or not," Reyna replied with careful evasion, "I'm sure there are people entertaining both possibilities. What matters is the impact this will have on our… situation, while our visitors are here."

"You're right," Octavian mused with a thoughtful frown. He clasped his hands in his lap and sighed. "It could be dangerous for our inter-culture cooperation. What do you think we should do about it? Spread the word that there was no one at fault in an effort to keep relations good?"

"For now, I don't think we should do anything but watch and listen. Stability and order take precedence, as always. If this really was an accident, then there's nothing to suggest that those things will be compromised. If not—if another… incident should happen, _then_ we'll be forced to take action. I do believe in freak accidents. What I don't believe in are coincidences. Additional problems will mean the threatening of our order, no question. If and when that happens, we'll deal with it the way Romans have always done."

Octavian studied Reyna's eyes for a few long seconds before his face broke into a gentle smile. "You've certainly been praetor for a long time," he noted. "And rightly so."

Almost unbidden, Reyna's eyes traveled to the tattoo on her forearm—the crossed sword and torch, symbols of her mother, and the nine black lines inked below them. Almost half her life she'd been a member of Camp Jupiter, and praetor for barely less. No one understood the Twelfth Legion like she did—at least, she herself felt that that was true. Her gaze flickered to Octavian's tattoo, to the three additional lines he boasted over her. It was true he'd been there longer than she had, but her extended praetorship made her more the veteran. He spoke to her like she had seniority, like he respected her. But every once in a while, when he looked at her, she could see herself through his eyes. And she saw nothing but a tool to be manipulated.

_All the better_, Reyna insisted to herself, though she couldn't help a small twinge of irritation. _If he thinks he has me fooled, it'll only be easier for me to keep an eye on him_.

Octavian slid closer to her on the sofa, sliding an arm around her shoulders. "I'm sorry for suggesting the games last night," he said quietly, brushing his fingers through a few strands of her hair that had come loose from its braid. "It looks like nothing good really came from it after all."

"I'm sure your intentions were in the right place," she replied, sure of no such thing. "I was optimistic about it, too. But no one could have expected this to happen."

"Just another small hurdle we'll have to smooth over. I suppose we should appoint a new leader for the building project to avoid its getting delayed. I think—"

"That won't be necessary," Reyna interrupted before he could get started. "I've been to see Valdez and it looks like his injury wasn't as serious as it seemed. He assured me he'll be back on his feet and ready to get started tomorrow."

Octavian frowned at the coffee table, the ice in his eyes hardening just barely. "Are you sure that's a good idea? We don't want him overdoing it and getting hurt again—or compromising the project, of course."

Reyna smirked inwardly. She'd made a similar point earlier to Leo, though in her case she'd actually meant it. "It's fine, you don't need to worry," she insisted off-handedly. "We want the job done right, don't we? I don't think we should risk putting someone less experienced in charge."

"You're right about that," Octavian conceded, evidently unable to disclaim the logic of that argument. "You're right about most things, actually. I can't tell you how glad I am that we've been able to work together as well as we have over the past month." His eyes traveled to meet hers and he set his free hand gently on her thigh, tracing small circles on her jeans with his thumb. It was a simple gesture, and Reyna wouldn't have minded it if his touch didn't always turn her body cold. "You and me… We belong on the same team, don't you think?"

Reyna smiled, habitually not reacting to the chill that seemed to sweep through her. Octavian probably thought he was being romantic. But Reyna felt rather like a hostage being toyed with by her captor.

This wasn't over. Of that much, she was certain. But after that talk, she was relatively confident that no one would try anything for a good while. If Octavian truly was the one behind the attack, and if he planned on pulling anything again, he would wait until he was sure Reyna's suspicions had died down. He would move when he thought she'd least expect it. Unfortunately for him, she was learning to expect much more of him than before. All she had to do was stay close to him.

So for now, Reyna smiled, placed her hand over Octavian's, and said, "Of course I do."

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><p>"<strong>From hell's heart<strong> I stab at thee; for hate's sake I spit my last breath at thee."  
>—Hermann Melville, <em>Moby Dick<em>

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><p><strong>Short and sweet. Next one should be longer, my outline has a few more paragraphs of stuff to go in. With a little luck I'll have it up next week :D<strong>

**So drop me a review, and I'll see you all soon! Later days!**

**-oMM**


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